


Playing With The Light Of The Universe

by bloodfever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, rampant anthropomorphising natural phenomena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5483009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodfever/pseuds/bloodfever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every iteration of Combeferre is in love with every iteration of Courfeyrac, and every iteration of Courfeyrac is in love with him right back.  Sometimes, however, the universe is playing a game of its own devising.</p>
<p>( For the Courferre 2015 Holiday Exchange, this is probably not exactly what my recipient had in mind, but I hope they enjoy it anyway!  Happy Holidays :D )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing With The Light Of The Universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dontpanic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontpanic/gifts).



**[1]**

Combeferre was a student of the classics, he knew all about homoeroticism, he knew exactly what his feelings for Courfeyrac were, what they meant. He watched Courfeyrac take woman after woman to his bed, listened politely at the gentle boasting the morning after, and essentially did everything he could to distract himself from the truth sitting right in front of him.

Which is how he came across Enjolras, and changed the course of his life.

Courfeyrac knew that he felt for Combeferre he had previously only felt for the women in his company, and that confused him. He had tried to talk to Combeferre about it once, but between his inability to articulate what he meant, and his reluctance to admit too much, Courfeyrac had walked away no more enlightened than he had been before. He considered himself a thoroughly modern man, a child of the revolution, a citizen of the Paris of the 19th Century, but modernity had its limits, and the danger of straying _too far_ from the accepted morality of society was ever-present.

So he took an eternal stream of women to his bed, and tried to forget all about it.

Somewhere, while putting both his affairs and his ammunition in order, Courfeyrac realised, and raced to Combeferre’s side. They agreed, somewhat reluctantly, that it would have to wait until after the coming stand, that they would talk, _honestly_ , once the fighting was done, and the universe can only weep.

**[2]**

Combeferre had inherited the café from a beloved, and somewhat batty, aunt. He didn’t even know it existed until after she had died, the deed and keys placed into his hands by an efficient but briskly cold lawyer, who gave every appearance of wanting to be well rid of it.

Combeferre understood the moment he walked in the door. It was difficult not to notice the small army of cats lounging around the room, standing on tables and perched on bookshelves lining the walls. It was also difficult not to notice the man lying on the floor, a mess of curls and no less than four cats perched on his chest, purring out a contented tune, napping in the sun. It was, as it turned out, impossible not to fall in love with the man, Courfeyrac, part time manager and unofficial cat whisperer.

It took Combeferre about three days to realise he was developing feelings both for this ridiculous, excessive café, and its manager. Three weeks to officially move into the studio upstairs, and three months to determine he was going to marry Courfeyrac and they were going to live happily ever after. With their army of cats. Obviously.

The problem with this plan, of course, was that Combeferre had not yet found the courage to actually let Courfeyrac in on it.

Courfeyrac had a plan of his own. He had written it down and everything. It was the “Seduce Combeferre, Gorgeous Vet and Café Owner and Man Of My Dreams in Four Easy and Two Hard Parts (If You Know What I Mean).” Eponine had given him a lot of shit for that, but then Courfeyrac had told her to bugger off and make out with her girlfriend and stop criticizing his obviously genius plans.

No one factored in the cats. The cats, who seemed to be giving Combeferre the evil eye whenever he so much as _thought about_ asking Courfeyrac out. The cats who managed to weave in between Courfeyrac’s legs and make him trip just as he was starting his most seductive saunter. Cats staring at them from shelving units, cats getting between them if they got too close, cats a convenient excuse for their lack of movement, fuel for their desperately wanting (and just that tiny bit too frightened) hearts.

**[3]**

They had run into each other, here and there, friends of friends, they shopped at the same market and adored the same second hand bookstore. Combeferre noticed, of course he did, he couldn’t help but to notice, the man with the elfin grin who seemed to radiate light. Not literally, if it had been literally Combeferre might have done something more about it than to sigh wistfully every time he spotted the other across a room, on the other side of a shelf, the next stall over.

Instead Combeferre kept to himself, and wanted from afar. There were offers to set him up, Joly was _convinced_ he knew someone Combeferre was going to fall in love with immediately, but Combeferre politely declined each time.

(Joly and Courfeyrac were old friends, but he didn’t know, couldn’t have known…)

Courfeyrac was braver, Courfeyrac flirted with glances and winks, and eventually, excruciatingly slowly, with a dinner invitation. They couldn’t actually set a date, between Combeferre’s work and students and volunteer work, and Courfeyrac’s clients, and activist group, and prior social engagements. After a while _possibility_ faded into _might have been_. They drifted, without going anywhere, and although they still shopped at the same market, and continued to delight in the same second hand bookstore, Combeferre did not spot Courfeyrac again, and he was left with an ache somewhere deep behind his ribs which he couldn’t quite name.

Until the day in the elevator.

The chime seemed distant, like it was coming from _another_ elevator, another place. Another version of Combeferre stepping out, not distracted by his paper, running into another Courfeyrac, who had a tiny office on the 11 th and a client to meet across town. Another chance, another wink, a date set this time, possibility renewed.

Combeferre was roused from the article he was reading by a tug in that empty spot behind his ribs, just in time to see the doors slide closed and feel the elevator start it’s ascent to the 12th.

**[4]**

“Urgh,” Combeferre fell face first onto the couch, Enjolras watching on with roughly equal amounts of sympathy and amusement. “He’s so… _urgh!_ ”

Courfeyrac was a thorn in Combeferre’s side.   This was the third consecutive class they had been assigned to work in the same group, Combeferre was beginning to think he had seriously pissed off a deity or two to deserve this punishment. Courfeyrac was _infuriating_ – smart, insightful, and giving every appearance of utter flippancy. What annoyed Combeferre the most was that he knew Courfeyrac, somehow, someway, despite appearing to simply _charm_ his way through the entire process, was going to pull the figurative rabbit out of his hat and turn in work which was well above the required standard.

It made Combeferre _furious_. And he found it devastatingly attractive, not that he would ever admit it. Under pain of death, he would never tell.

Courfeyrac thought Combeferre was pompous, and tedious, and far, far too serious. Courfeyrac also routinely fantasised about pushing Combeferre against the nearest wall and kissing the disapproving frown right off his face but that was neither here nor there, right? It was perfectly normal to think that about your nemesis? Obviously.

In a similar room in the mirroring dorm, Courfeyrac was also mid-rant to an entirely amused, and not at all sympathetic, Grantaire.

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be in love with him?”

“Fuck off.”

And so, they fantasised in unison, but light years apart.

**[5]**

“It is _literally_ light years away!” Combeferre cried in protest, but he was met with nothing but stony silence and before he can even get accustomed to the idea he has endured a far too long journey in a far too small spacecraft with a woefully inadequate crew who all seemed to be in the one undefined romantic entanglement. ‘ _Space is big, but hearts are bigger_ ’ Captain Musichetta had informed Combeferre gravely one evening as she took both the ship’s doctor (why did such a small vessel even _have_ a dedicated doctor?) and chief ~~engineer~~ good luck charm to her bed. Combeferre was somewhat dubious, sufficed to say. He hadn’t come across many particularly generous hearts in his life to date.

There would prove to be two occasions when Combeferre would see how wrong he had been. The first, landing on the planet – _Earth_ , according to his assignment dossier – Combeferre had immediately looked upwards as the sun rose, the chlorine and sulphur in the atmosphere making the sky glow an incredible yellow-green, just for a moment, when rays from the rising sun hit the atmosphere _just so_. In the moment Combeferre thought that maybe his heart might have been bigger than he had given it credit for, but it passed quickly enough and Combeferre was left with only a memory and a renewed desperation to get his job done and get _home_.

Courfeyrac had come out to see the sun rise, to watch that exact moment, like he had a hundred times before (1,053 if he was counting), but this particular morning he missed it, only able to see Combeferre’s face.

The second time Combeferre was watching Courfeyrac work with his clean up crew, solving a particularly difficult technical problem, and Courfeyrac was in his element. His team was responsive and willing, his orders considered and sensitive, and Combeferre had been struck both by Courfeyrac’s generosity of spirit – rare in this desolate place – and his creativity. Unlike the sunrise, Combeferre’s heart did not recover from his encounter with Courfeyrac.

Also quite like the sunrise, Combeferre’s assignment was quickly over – too soon, far too soon – and they were forced light years apart once more.

**[1]**

If pressed, Combeferre honestly would not be able to tell how this all started. He was a low level, low paid bureaucrat, a coastal engineer with the Ministry of Ecology, Sustainable Development and Energy.  Or, as he liked to call it, the Ministry of Emotional Manipulation, Suffering, and Embarrassment. When he had graduated with his civil engineering degree Combeferre had wanted to help humanity, to shape the future. As it turned out, he couldn’t even divert a planned river-side development far enough to save an endangered species of frog. Vale, _Ventus tropum_.  You were not pretty, but didn’t deserve to be displaced by a steady flow of clueless and hapless ecotourists.

Then everything changed. Combeferre found himself sharing a booth in his local café with two gentlemen who were both blinding in their own, distinct ways, and the unnerving feeling that he was being… _recruited_. For what he couldn’t say, but sure enough he started receiving messages shortly after. Combeferre was relatively tech savvy, so knew enough to know that they were coming from revolving IP addresses, routed through VPNs, but it was clear who was behind them. From the effusive use of emoji, if nothing else.

Courfeyrac had practically begged Enjolras to meet with the gorgeous coastal engineer he had stumbled across. If Courfeyrac had – quite accidentally – overheard a conversation about how dissatisfied Combeferre was with his current employment and then had – quite inadvertently – fallen immediately in love, well that was just a bonus. The selling points, as far as Enjolras was concerned, was Combeferre’s access to government records, and Combeferre’s sincere willingness to make change happen.

Okay, so Combeferre is a liar. He can precisely remember how it all started. There are practically hearts drawn around his entry from that day in his journal. Blinding in their own ways, Enjolras and Courfeyrac both, but Combeferre had instantly become entranced by Courfeyrac’s enthusiasm, his warmth, the way his eyes shone, his easy manner. And his hair, but Combeferre is not that shallow (another lie).

Months of close, almost daily contact. Meetings in increasingly stressful and oddly romantic situations which seemed more like dates than exchanges of information. Combeferre was completely convinced it was all in his head, after all Courfeyrac was deeply engaged with everyone he met, and Combeferre had no reason to suspect that he was held in any special regard. Courfeyrac, for his part, thought that he had been perfectly obvious in his intentions, and Combeferre was politely ignoring his advances.

If they didn’t shut up about each other Enjolras was going to murder them both in their sleep.

Combeferre was there the day it went badly, he had provided some intel on some server maintenance which had given Courfeyrac the perfect opportunity to get behind the Ministry firewall, and from there into the wider governmental network. _Somehow_ Courfeyrac was spotted just as he was placing a rootkit, and chaos erupted. Frantically shouting orders to Combeferre so he could help destroy the laptop and router, Courfeyrac’s heart was pounding and he was beginning to get a little light headed as the adrenaline rush took over.

The next thing he knew Courfeyrac was in Combeferre’s arms, dizzy but mostly back in control of his faculties. Still convinced the authorities were going to be at his door at any moment, Courfeyrac did the only reasonable thing.

“Did we get it all? Has everything been destroyed?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

“Did you destroy the hard drives? The CPU? The circuitry of the router?”

“All in tiny pieces, except for the circuit board of the router which is currently on fire in your microwave.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Combeferre blinked, hard, thrown both by the abrupt change in topic and the sudden tilt of his universe.

“Er. Definitely. Absolutely. Affirmative. That sounds like a capital idea, actually.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes…”

The authorities never come, but Combeferre does, before they even got out of the living room. Courfeyrac has never felt more accomplished.

**[Epilogue]**

Combeferre wakes slowly, warm and settled in a way he can’t remember ever being before. Stretching out his considerable frame, he realises two things at the same time – he is alone, and he can hear a symphony of keystrokes drifting in from the living room. He pulls on the first tshirt he can find (bright yellow with a unicorn in glitter, incidentally) and smiles to himself as he pads down the hallway.

“Morning, Sunshine.” Combeferre murmurs, placing a soft kiss to a riot of messy curls. “Saving the world?”

Courfeyrac hums in response, but he is focused on his task. By the time he is satisfied with his progress Combeferre has a pot of coffee ready and is almost finished making breakfast. Sunlight streams through the windows, because it always does when Courfeyrac enters the room. The smell of food cooking makes everything seem like a promise. Combeferre looks up from the stove just in time to spot that Courfeyrac is wearing his periodic table tshirt, and he thinks his heart might burst.

_I love you_ dances in the air, but instead Combeferre simply says:

“I read last night that there is a plan to reopen the Arsenal de Rochefort and dredge the estuary to allow military vessels greater access. At the cost of the destruction of the coastal ecosystem, to say the least. I think we should…consider our options.”

Courfeyrac grins, mischief glinting in his eyes, and the universe is sated at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Title by Neruda, indecision by Keira...
> 
> So, I started what could end up being a monster fic under the 'Ferre is a coastal engineer/Courf is a hacker' prompt and after 4000 words I was still no where near the plot, and running up against the deadline. Something about it wouldn't let me go entirely however - nor could I decide between one of your other prompts. So...everything it is!!
> 
> I may still get around to finishing the partial Engineer!Fic, engineers - and Courferre - being somewhat close to my heart. That said, I hope this stands alone and fits the bill.
> 
> I am [prometheusatthebarricade](http://prometheusatthebarricade.tumblr.com/), come and say hi :D.


End file.
